A Little Learning Is A Dangerous Thing
by cate's corner
Summary: A oneshot sequel to Lessons Learned. What's the first thing that Steve would try to learn in American Sign Language? Yep, Danny's guessed it too. Steve/Danny friendship


I've written this story as a sequel to Lessons Learned. I enjoyed writing that story so much, and this one has been great fun too.

It's just a short one shot, as opposed to its multi chapter predecessor. It's set a few days after the events in Lessons Learned, so if you haven't read that story already, you might want to do so before going onto this one.

I know in episode 1.14 that Steve speaks Mandarin. I've used a bit of writer's licence with the others in this story.

Enjoy!

A Little Learning Is A Dangerous Thing

Slouched comfortably in his chair, Danny Williams stared at the paperwork on his desk, and sighed. Days like this had their good points, and bad. Yes, it was nice to be able to enjoy its peaceful quiet. It made a change from getting shot at, or thrown through windows, or the hell of SuperSEAL's driving. But it also meant tackling the one thing that he, and his certifiably insane partner, mutually hated.

Paperwork. Files that somehow multiplied overnight, with the speed of hyperactive rabbits.

The bane of every detective's life, and… hello? What was SuperSEAL up to now?

Whatever it was, it had Steve's complete attention. Huddled over his desk, cradling his head in his hands, he seemed to be reading something – his expression reminding Danny of the one he saw on Grace's face when she was doing her homework. Except there was a world of difference between a school math assignment and the workings of SuperSEAL's mind. Given the choice, Danny knew which one he'd rather face.

Engrossed in whatever he was reading, that pile of files beside him wasn't going down either. At all.

Still watching his friend, Danny frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly in rising suspicion. Yeah, the last time that had happened, the empty trays on _his_ desk had mysteriously filled up again

'_If you try that stunt again_, _Steven_, _I_'_m_ _gonna drop kick you to Maui._'

Kicking practice aside, Danny had to admit that he was intrigued now – not to mention worried. All sorts of scenarios flashed through his mind as he finally rose to his feet and strode out of his office. God, an expression like that could mean _anything_, ranging from finding new stuff for the Mercury to – well, boning up on new ways to hang perps off roofs, and MacGyvering flare guns out of water bottles and fertiliser.

And when Steve grinned at him like that, it made him physically cringe, and… _say_ _what_?

Struck speechless by what he'd just seen, Danny smiled. That smile grew, in turn, into a broad grin. Fighting down a surge of laughter, he kept his eagerly waiting partner dangling for a few more delicious seconds. Then, at last, he spoke.

"Okay, let me get this straight. _You_ want _me_ to… cook a… _dam_? With an… O?"

The bright eyed eager beaver smile in front of him vanished, instantly, into mortified confusion – frantically rustling pages threatening to split his sides with barely suppressed laughter.

"_What_? Noooo, that's… no, Danny, I'm – I'm sure I've read this right!" Steve finally spluttered – so desperate to prove himself right that he didn't notice the stealthy escape in front of him. It was only the howls of helpless laughter that gave Danny away as he retreated back to his office.

He'd almost, _almost_, reached its sanctuary when a muscular arm and a waggling book stopped him.

But not for long. Taking rare advantage of his closeness to the ground, Danny simply ducked underneath them, and strode on to plant himself back in his chair. Leaning back in it, propping his feet up on his desk, he then re-met his partner's glaring eyes – knowing there'd be hell to pay for what he'd just done, but enjoying himself too much to care.

He knew what was coming anyway. And he knew _exactly_ how to respond to it.

"Okay, wise guy, show me."

"No."

"Show me, or I'll hang you from the ceiling with your tie."

"Try it, and you'll be singing soprano for the rest of your life. And the answer is _still_ no."

A pause while Aneurysm-Face changed down into the closest it could get to Whipped-Puppy.

"Aw, c'mon, Danny! Think how useful it could be!"

"On stakeouts and covert ops, maybe At every other time… _no._"

Another pause, before Steve tried another tack and pasted a game show smile onto his face. Danny had to clutch his sides again. Hell, at this rate, he'd get down on his knees and beg.

"But it's such a _special_ ability, Danny! And _you_ could teach it to me, better than _any_ book!"

Oh, so he was going for flattery now? _After_ threatening to hang him? Yeah, dream on.

"Yes, and _I_ would regret it for the rest of my constantly endangered life," Danny shot back, his turn to change tack now, as the face in front of him racked itself up to an all out wheedle that even Grace would struggle to beat.

"Okay, since we're talking languages here, how many can you actually _speak_?"

Thrown completely off his stride, Steve thought for a moment, then reluctantly answered him.

"Um, six… French, Spanish, Korean, Mandarin, Urdu, Farsi… and a bit of Italian."

Staring back at him, silently and genuinely impressed, Danny then grinned and leaned forward.

"Okay, in _every_ one of them, including good old fashioned English, the answer… _is_… _still_… _no._"

Realizing this was a fight that he just couldn't win, Steve glared, glowered, then finally turned on his heel and stomped out – his final gesture of defiance causing Danny to collapse across his desk now, in fits of unstoppable laughter.

Okay, so the '_Book_ '_em_, _Danno,_' still needed work. But he'd signed '_Bite me_, _smartass,_' to down pat perfection.


End file.
